The Lies That Bind Us
by Lady Grimms
Summary: Evarian learns of Jolandar's deception and meets a certain Warlord Prince who *might* hold some importance in her life. How will she react to meeting him? Read and find out!
1. Prologue and Chapter One

Please note that all characters, places and information in this story from the Black Jewels Trilogy completely belong to Anne Bishop. Even those created by me belong to the author for they involve her races and worlds. No profit is being made from the creation of this tale and it is purely for entertainment.  
  
*Quick rewrite again folks. I don't know why I keep changing it. It just seems a little off. Oh well! I'm going to leave it as is now and just add more chapters. I've taken off the old reviews because I've changed the story a little. Please continue to read and make comments. I won't be erasing them again.*  
  
  
  
A Little More than Fifty Thousand Years ago  
  
Prologue  
  
In the realm of Heaven, the Dark Lord Baruch finished weaving a tangled web.  
  
He had just planted his seed into the belly of a witch. Now, he would only have to wait until the time was ripe for his full return. And once that happened, he would rejoin his offspring and the realms would learn what it meant to be ruled by a King.  
  
But the web warned of a Witch who would easily destroy him in body, mind and jewels. So, he would wait until the realms were free of her influence. And once this Witch was separated from her power, nothing would beat his ebony jewel. Not the black book. Not even Dragon. Nothing.  
  
700 years ago  
  
  
  
1 / Terreille  
  
"Child, I will not say this again! Get down!" Prythian, Askavi's high priestess screamed at the young eyrien queen who had flown up and attached herself at the top of the pillar, unwilling to move despite the angered shouts from her keepers.  
  
A bright red shield surrounded Evarian's small form. "No!"  
  
The combined jewels of Prythian and several guards broke the shield.  
  
Evarian let out an enraged cry before scrambling out of reach of a guard's grasping hands. The young queen reached for a porcelain vase and threw it at her pursuer. He dodged out of the way, only to be impacted in the head by a plate thrown by Craft. Evarian giggled behind a small light brown hand.  
  
"This is turning out to be a bad idea," Vothrian muttered.  
  
Prythian spun around and said through clenched teeth, "I'll remind you who suggested we keep the child for ourselves, cousin. Dorothea will have our heads once she realizes-"  
  
Vothrian tapped a finger on her chin. "Perhaps we need to consider another course of action. The half-breed will return soon and recognize his own bloodline. The child needs to be removed from Askavi before that happens."  
  
Exasperated, Prythian threw up her hands. "And who would take her?"  
  
A guard had managed to grasp hold of Evarian, who now struggled furiously, screaming at the top of her lungs. "I want Grapa!"  
  
Both woman stared at the child and smiled. "Of course. Jolandar lives in the mountains, far away from Hayll. He understands the value of riding the realm of Dorothea and will gladly take the child of his decease wife, father or not. But she must remain in reach, for our own uses. Dorothea won't be high priestess for long. Not while Evarian is under-"  
  
"I WANT GRAPA!" Evarian roared.  
  
"You're getting a damned grandpa, you worthless brat!" Prythian screamed at her.  
  
Evarian perked up, ignoring the furious high priestess glaring down at her. "Really?" She raised her head to stare up at the guard named Gathnar who had caught her.  
  
He nodded and placed her down on her feet. She grabbed his hand and started pulling him towards the door. Prythian waved them off and the door shut behind them.  
  
"How many besides us know of her existence?" Prythian asked her cousin.  
  
"Fewer than twenty. Why?"  
  
"How many know of her true bloodline?"  
  
"Not many."  
  
"All need to be eliminated but Jolandar and his family." Prythian opened a bottle of red wine. She poured a glass for herself and Vothrian. She raised her glass in a toast and waited for her cousin to follow. "To our success."  
  
"To us," Vothrian replied.  
  
Both took a sip of wine.  
  
"And now-" Vothrian swayed against the table and stared at Prythian in shock. She clutched at her chest and gasped for oxygen.  
  
A cruel smile bloomed on Prythian's face as she sipped her wine. "For the reign of Askavi."  
  
  
  
********  
  
"I'm gonna go see grapa and . . . "  
  
Evarian had been telling Gathnar where she was going for the last few minutes.  
  
He watched her with irritated delight. She was going to be wonderful, if only she could simply rid herself of the malicious intensions of the adults around her. Her mother had been one of Prythian's first circle, a beautiful yet cruel woman who had died in childbirth. He still hadn't discovered if she had truly died in labour or by poison placed in her water.  
  
Gathnar had served Prythian long enough to realize that he wouldn't survive the next few days. He knew who Evarian's true father was. One only had to look at her. Almost nothing of her mother had formed in the child's face. She was simply a young and female Lucivar. And rather pudgy one at that, he smiled while looking at her rounded and excited face. She was still talking about her Grandpa.  
  
"Evarian?" he said calmly, catching her attention.  
  
She frowned, unhappy about being interrupted during her speech. "What Lod Gatner?"  
  
He sighed, thank the darkness no one else had heard her say his name. He would be laughed out of the court. "I have something for you."  
  
Gathnar pulled off a ring on his left hand. It was a gift from his father, a honourable and strong man who had warned him against serving in the courts who bowed to Dorothea. He had been blinded by the male's instinct to serve and joined up with Prythian anyway.  
  
"Take this and keep it hidden," he said.  
  
Evarian approached him hesitantly and took the ring. She tried to put in every finger but it was much too large. "It won't fit."  
  
He removed the necklace that held his Opal jewel. He took off the pendant and put the ring on it instead, securing it around her neck. "Remember me," he said.  
  
"I don have nothing for you," she said sadly. She looked around her room and then brightened. She ruffled through her pant's pocket and pulled out a mangled feather. "Here!"  
  
He raised an eyebrow while taking it.  
  
She scowled at him. "Keep it in your pocket and it will help you fly!"  
  
He smiled tenderly and embraced her. A knock sounded on the door.  
  
Gathnar pulled back abruptly and stood, forming an appropriate expression on his face. He shoved the feather into his pocket.  
  
Evarian eyed him, confused. He winked and she giggled.  
  
A first circle male entered the room and grabbed Evarian's hand, pulling her roughly along with him. She gave a small cry of defiance, but could do nothing against the strength of an Eyrien warrior.  
  
Sighing, Gathnar grabbed her bags and followed. Two men stopped him and waited for Evarian and her escort to round the corner. One man took the bags from him and then quickly disappeared down the corridor.  
  
He felt a darker jewel's presence from behind him and a sharp pain where a dagger was rammed into his back. He fell to his knees, and for a moment gripped his pocket just before the high priestess of Askavi finished the kill.  
  
  
  
2 / Terreille  
  
Prythian stared at the bitch queen who had returned Lucivar to Askavi that evening. "What happened at the court?" she demanded.  
  
The queen sat down wearily in a plush chair facing Prythian. "Do you remember the broken black widow named Tersa?"  
  
Prythian swallowed the thick ball of fear that formed in her throat. Had Tersa seen the birth of Evarian? It was pure luck they had managed to remove the child before Lucivar returned to Askavi. "Vaguely."  
  
"It appears she mentioned to Daemon Sadi the truth of his connection with Yasi. And you can imagine the outcome of that little tidbit of information."  
  
"Did she say anything else?" Prythian asked, trying to sound only slightly interested.  
  
"Isn't that enough? Those two destroyed half my court!"  
  
Prythian rested back into her chair in relief. No one had noticed the disappearance of the three-year-old Evarian. And all those who knew of her existence were dead.  
  
"It is not my concern if those two bastards aren't controlled properly. Obviously you didn't listen correctly when I was explaining the purpose of the ring of obedience. You are dismissed."  
  
The queen dropped the secondary controlling ring on the table and stormed out of the room.  
  
A guard entered hesitantly. "What should we do with Yaslana, my lady?"  
  
Prythian smiled in anticipation. "I can think of a few things."  
  
  
  
3 / Terreille  
  
Jolandar stared at the red-jewelled child who struggled in the grasp of the guard who help her arms tightly. "What am I supposed to do with that?"  
  
"It appears that the high Priestess of Askavi would like a favour."  
  
"It appears she doesn't want to risk her own neck, but found it all to easy to risk mine instead," he replied coldly.  
  
The guard shrugged, not caring.  
  
Evarian's eyes fixed onto Jolandar. They widened with fear and unshed tears.  
  
He rubbed his chin, and pondered the possibilities that came with that fear. A queen who could destroy Dorothea and Prythian once she made the offering. A woman moulded into a dependant tool who remained loyal to him. She could fulfill his vision of a pure Askavi and place the Eyrien race above all others, as it was meant to be.  
  
He approached her and she stepped backwards into the guard who held her.  
  
"Your not grapa," she whispered.  
  
"No, I'm not," he replied, with a feral smile. "I'm your father." 


	2. Chapter Two

Please note that all characters, places and information in this story from the Black Jewels Trilogy completely belong to Anne Bishop. Even those created by me belong to the author for they involve her races and world. No profit is being made from the creation of this tale and it is purely for entertainment.  
  
The purge.  
  
4 / Terreille  
  
Evarian absently touched a small budge under her tunic; the ring Gathnar had given her.  
  
She stared out the window, not caring what was being discussed. She noted words of interest like war, death and justice. It didn't matter. The wind gained in strength and the leaves were picked up and thrown in the waves.  
  
"Promise?" she asked quietly.  
  
"Have I ever lied before?" Jolandar replied, ignoring his father's mild snarl. He'd deal with that later.  
  
She stood, and walked towards the door. Her eldest brother Colthvar followed her, forever the escort. They walked together in silence until finding a small room that was a discreet distance from the reception chamber.  
  
"You need to be more careful with what you demand," he said quietly. "This concerns the survival of the family."  
  
"Really?" she said absently, not really caring. It was odd. Nothing ever seemed to matter.  
  
"If they find out-"  
  
"The only way anyone will find out is if you tell them. I'm sick and tired of being coddled. I told you only because I needed someone to collect the money after the fight was over," she said, and then shifted uncomfortably. "And well, because I trust you."  
  
"Lucky me."  
  
********  
  
Connar stared at the door where Evarian had left with curiosity. He then turned his attention back to his son and the expression changed to one of dislike. "Perhaps you need to lighten up on the amount of lithen. She seems to be more lethargic than normal."  
  
Jolandar shrugged and said. "Before we meet with Prythian this afternoon, she needed to be under control."  
  
"She's been on it for centuries Jolandar," Connar said roughly. "It can't be-"  
  
"Why should you care?" he snarled. "She isn't of your blood."  
  
"And so she remains set aside from the family, and yet we depend on her for bringing our family Valin to head of the Eyrien race."  
  
"It would do you well to remember where she originated. Her mother's blood is tainted, and she needs a firm hand to keep her in place."  
  
"You've never informed the family of her origins."  
  
Jolandar's smile was feral. "I honestly don't know."  
  
"I see. Perhaps-" Connar stopped in mid-sentence and frowned. Rushed footsteps sounded from the hallway. "It appears Prythian does not wish to wait."  
  
The high priestess of Askavi burst into the room, but stopped abruptly when she noticed Connar. Three servants followed, holding platters of food and a bottle of wine.  
  
Jolandar bowed slightly and said, "Do you think it is wise to bring her here now?"  
  
"Yaslana died nine years ago and Dorothea has been terribly busy planning a war with Kaeleer." Prythian looked around the room, finally noting the absence of Evarian. "How does the girl fare since I saw her last?"  
  
Jolandar ignored the glass of wine placed next to him. He didn't trust her. "Well, but it would do you well to remember that it is I, who have been in control of her since her childhood."  
  
Prythian took a sip of wine and asked, "Has the lithen been working?"  
  
"It has kept her obedient to a point," he replied, after some thought. "But she also owes me more that she likes to admit. It was my sway that allowed her entrance to the hunting camps."  
  
"I never agreed to that," Prythian snarled. "What might happen if someone recognized her?"  
  
"If you think that I was going to leave with her alone, without the protection of my three sons then you are truly mad. My boys have always been there to help keep her in line. Something you never mastered with the father, I might add."  
  
"Remember who supplies you the drug, Jolandar. It might keep her emotions in check, but if she ever gets separated from you remember that the medication is highly addictive. No one would want to be in any range of that when she goes off."  
  
"And what of Dorothea?" he asked, mildly curious.  
  
"I will remain loyal until the time comes for Evarian to make the offering," she said. "I simply wanted this opportunity to remind her who she truly serves."  
  
"Yes, Lady," he said respectively, trying to hide his distaste. How he despised Prythian. Her blood was as tainted as Dorotheas.  
  
The winds picked up in speed and the branches of the nearest tree tapped against the window.  
  
"This storm keeps on getting worse," Jolandar mumbled.  
  
His eyes widened when he felt a stirring from the abyss below.  
  
Frightened screams sounded from inside and outside the house. The window shattered as the room filled with dark power.  
  
********  
  
A wave of unimaginable power flooded the lands. It lasted for only a moment but felt like a lifetime.  
  
Evarian pushed her exhausted body to her feet and hesitantly opened the door to look out into the hallway. She swallowed roughly and tried not to vomit seeing the carnage of what was left of Prythian's court. Most were laying twisted and dead, jewels completely drained and shattered. She probed the fallen bodies and realized that all had returned to the darkness.  
  
Panic filled her mind and she screamed, "Connar!"  
  
********  
  
Jolandar heard Evarian's shout and her racing footsteps. He eyed his father, shakily climbing to his feet. Prythian lay twisted, dead.  
  
Connar examined the room with apprehension, and then whispered, "Evarian."  
  
Without second a second thought, Jolandar called in his war blade and stabbed his father in the stomach. It was an opportune time to put an end to his father's meddling.  
  
Connar's golden eyes widened in denial and gripped his son's arms tightly. Hate filled them while he whispered, "Despite your lies, she has a pure heart. I have already claimed her as my own, despite our differing bloodlines. The time will come when you will realize what to the true call of what Askavi represents and pay for your crimes."  
  
His father slumped to the floor. Before Jolandar could finish the kill, Evarian burst through the door and cried out, "Grandpa!"  
  
Colthvar stepped into the room, following Evarian and paled once he saw his grandfather dead at his father's feet.  
  
Jolandar rushed over to grasp her before she saw the small pool of blood forming. "I'm sorry Evarian but he was caught in the black wave."  
  
"Oh no," she whispered, knees collapsing.  
  
He picked her up and carried her from the room. He held her trembling body, but felt uneasy when he felt a flicker of power from far beneath him surge. The windows around them glazed with ice.  
  
Her head rose slowly and she whispered, "Whomever did this will pay." 


	3. Chapter Three

Please note that all characters, places and information in this story from the Black Jewels Trilogy completely belong to Anne Bishop. Even those created by me belong to the author for they involve her races and worlds. No profit is being made from the creation of this tale and it is purely for entertainment.  
  
Two years after the Purge  
  
6 / Terreille  
  
Evarian watched them pull the leader of the rebellion into the prison block. Her golden eyes narrowed and she felt the pull of the land crying out in pain. She felt the death of every tree and flower cut or burnt down from the ragging battle.  
  
She rustled her wings in displeasure and the red jewel around her neck flashed in anger. Her hands were tightly gripping the railing. The metal cracked as in was encased in a thin layer of frost.  
  
Her father Jolandar stood next to her, hard golden eyes resting on her face. She swallowed slowly and shoved her anger back down into her core, hoping she hadn't angered him because of her lack of control. He wouldn't be happy if he suspected she wasn't as subdued as he realized.  
  
"You knew this would happen," he said. "It's your birthright to rule these people Evarian. It takes suffering and pain to bring about true peace. And we will bring these savages to their knees so that the true vision of Askavi can be formed."  
  
The immense wave of power that had cleansed the realms two years ago had made the people of Terreille easy pickings for the Eyrien race. Her father stood at the head, a full-blooded eyrien and a warlord prince who wore a Red Jewel. A strong man who had taken the time to educate her in the true ways of the blood. A man who had allowed a woman into the hunting camps so that she could learn to fight. Her three older brothers, who all wore dark jewels, had protected her from the other males.  
  
Her mother had died at her birth and Evarian was glad she was dead. Everyone but her family that spoke of the woman said that she was as cruel as she was beautiful. Although she had never seen a picture, Evarian was told repeatedly that she resembled her mother because there was nothing of her father in her features. The only thing they had in common was her height and slim but muscular built. And of course the thick black hair, golden eyes and wings of the Eyrien race. It didn't matter.  
  
"These people are unworthy to even lick the dust off your boots," he whispered coaxingly into her ear and handed her a glass of wine. "Your mother would have been proud of the woman you have become. A Queen who will lead us all to victory."  
  
She watched the guards secure the man to the whipping posts and strip off his shirt. Laughing, a guard pulled out a metal scourge and started to strike the man's back. She winced with every time the weapon ripped open his skin.  
  
Jolandar sipped a glass of red wine and watched the man being whipped to death with a vicious smile spread across his face. "And once you make the offering, nothing will stop us."  
  
7 / Kaeleer  
  
Jaenelle frowned at the tangled web. This wasn't right.  
  
A week earlier Tersa had disappeared from the realm leaving nothing at the hall but a note saying that she had gone to Terreille to stop a war.  
  
Jaenelle and Daemon had searched Tersa's home for a clue to see what had set the woman off. They found a tangled web. Jaenelle had examined the web closely, but couldn't completely understand it. After placing a preservation spell around it, she had taken it back to the keep and expanded upon it with her own talent.  
  
The web spoke of the delusions of the first-born of the third generation. She shook her head, not understanding. Daemonar was the first-born and growing into a fine yet hard headed youth. His temper and energy mirrored that of his father and he would be a powerful Warlord Prince. It also showed a war brought forth by the secrets and lies of a pseudo father. It said that the next queen of Ebon Askavi was coming and a court would be formed that would completely destroy of the ways of the blood or bring everlasting peace to the realms.  
  
And the choice was dependant on the father.  
  
This web spoke of someone who shared the bloodline of the SaDiablo family.  
  
She swallowed, not yet willing to accept the truth. Her eyes closed. Lucivar and Daemon rarely spoke of the pain they had endured as slaves. It was part of the past they had left behind when moving to Kaeleer. Their family and close friends had respected the silence. But Jaenelle knew, having experienced the torture first hand by the ignorance of her own blood relatives.  
  
The child couldn't be Daemon's, so that only left . . .  
  
She would have to talk to Daemon and ask his opinion about how to broach the subject with Lucivar. How was she going to tell her brother that he had a daughter? Someone that threatened a peace she had created by almost sacrificing her own life.  
  
*Daemon?* she called softly and opened her eyes.  
  
He entered the room cautiously, and knelt down behind her. "What does it say?"  
  
She grabbed his hand and dug her nails deeply into his skin. He didn't wince or pull away from the pain but watched her, silent and questioning. Almost apprehensive, he turned to the web. Taking his time to analyze every thread.  
  
She watched him pale as understanding crossed his face.  
  
"Mother Night."  
  
8 / Terreille  
  
"How long has she been in the sanctuary for?" Colthvar asked his brother Linar.  
  
"A day and a half," Linar replied, with a feral smile. "It appears that our young sister is taking her time. Perhaps I should give her some incentive."  
  
Colthvar grabbed his brohter's arm, and spun him around. "Are you mad? The consequences of-"  
  
Linar pulled free of Colthvar's grip. "Need I remind you who outranks who?"  
  
A small tremor formed in Colthvar's body. "Linar, please."  
  
"Please, what?" he said, and crept into the sanctuary.  
  
It was fairly dark and the priestess stood guard next to the dark oak doors. The altar lay within that room. "May I help you Prince?"  
  
Linar approached her, red jewel glowing. The priestess slowly moved out of his way.  
  
He flung open the doors and saw Evarian sitting on the floor, looking rather dazed. Her head snapped up when he entered.  
  
She frowned and said, "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Just coming in to check on my baby sister," Linar replied.  
  
Evarian smiled weakly. "I didn't expect it to make me feel so alone."  
  
Linar knelt down in front of her and looked down into her hands holding a black jewel.  
  
He grabbed her shoulders roughly. "You'll always have me."  
  
Then he bent his head.  
  
********  
  
Just before his lips touched her, a wave of anger surged forth and she pushed him away. "What in the name of hell do you think your doing?"  
  
Her brother Linar frowned, like he wasn't expecting her to react this way. He believed her still controlled from the lithen.  
  
She blinked, and tried to shove him away. He wouldn't move.  
  
Breathing started to become difficult and her heart wouldn't slow down. There was another presence in her mind, controlling. Something was terribly wrong.  
  
********  
  
The ground shook from a blast of power from a dark jewel.  
  
Colthvar watched Evarian exit the sanctuary, stiffly. No sign of Linar. Something inside of him made him wary of her stealthy approach.  
  
He dropped the flask given to him from Jolandar and edged out of her way. She walked past him without comment, shoulders taunt. Her eyes seemed glazed.  
  
He waited until she was out of sight before running into the sanctuary. The priestess was holding her yellow jewel, and her eyes were filled with fear.  
  
Colthvar entered the chamber and stared down at what was left of his brother.  
  
********  
  
At first, Connar believed it best to wait until after the offering to approach his grand daughter. With her newfound power, not even the combined forces of the Eyrien army would be able to stop her. But as he watched Evarian walk past Colthvar, he realized his error in judgement. Her pent up emotions were finally spilling over.  
  
Almost two day had passed since her last dose of lithen. No one was safe from her now. Although he was tempted to send her back to Jolandar like this, others unworthy of her rage would be killed.  
  
She needed to be contained in order for the drug to wear off and hopefully at that point, her wits would return; if there were any left after centuries of being subdued.  
  
But he would need help and power. He needed to speak to the high lord.  
  
Connar patiently waited for Colthvar to rush past him and catch the winds back to Askavi. He cautiously approached the sanctuary that held the dark altar. 


	4. Chapter Four

Please note that all characters, places and information in this story from the Black Jewels Trilogy completely belong to Anne Bishop. Even those created by me belong to the author for they involve her races and worlds. No profit is being made from the creation of this tale and it is purely for entertainment.  
  
*A special thanks to Rachel Hunt for her comments and humorous tales of Avarian (I didn't even realize the similarity to Evarian, darn it all to hell!) And of course, it is always nice to get reviews. Thanks Thera's Blaed, Starlight and Amber for reading my tale and wanting to make Lucivar's life as crappy and snarly as possible.*  
  
9 / Kaeleer  
  
Saetan braced his head in his hands. "You're sure?"  
  
Jaenelle remained silent.  
  
"Read the web, father," Daemon said quietly. "We wanted your advice on how to broach the subject with Lucivar."  
  
"No. You're both scared shitless of his reaction," Saetan replied, finally raising his head to stare at his namesake.  
  
"Can you blame us? When Dorothea held you before Jaenelle unleashed, you had a taste of what happens to pleasure slaves in Terreille. Lucivar has finally found a place to belong, a wife and a son. We are asking him to remember a time best left forgotten. He will arrive soon. We felt it best to tell him now."  
  
"I suppose that is best," Saetan said, roughly.  
  
The three of them felt Lucivar enter the keep, obviously annoyed at being ordered to come. He burst into the room but checked his step once he noticed the serious and apprehensive stares that greeted him.  
  
"Sit down," Daemon said, motioning to a chair on his left.  
  
Geoffrey poked his head through the door. "High lord?"  
  
"What is it Geoffrey?" His voice held an edge that the librarian obviously noted, with a slight tilt of his head.  
  
"There is a demon-dead warlord here to see you," he said quietly.  
  
"It can wait."  
  
"Yes, high lord." Geoffrey left the room and closed the door softly behind him.  
  
Lucivar glanced warily at each of them. "What is it?"  
  
"We found out what fuelled Tersa's disappearance." Jaenelle said softly. "I found a web in her home. It spoke of a war and the next Queen of Ebon Askavi."  
  
"Hell's Fire," Lucivar muttered.  
  
"There is more," Daemon said. "The web also mentioned the blood-line of this Queen. And how the choice of her father would mean either devastation or peace for all the realms."  
  
Lucivar was obviously confused. He ran fingers through his hair and said. "So we need to bring her here."  
  
"It means going back to Terreille," Daemon said roughly.  
  
Obviously Lucivar noticed the slight edge to Daemon's voice. "What else?"  
  
Saetan sighed and placed his hand on his son's shoulder. "Few blood have the strength to wear dark jewels. The SaDiablo line has always gifted its children with unimaginable power. This girl is more to us that the next queen. She is a direct descendent of this family."  
  
Lucivar grumbled, "But that is impossible."  
  
"No, it is not," Daemon interrupted. Lucivar stared at him for several moments before the truth hit home.  
  
The vicious snarl that erupted was the only warning before Lucivar exploded from his chair. "No."  
  
Daemon stood and stepped into the path of his brother's rage. "You knew it was a possibility."  
  
"No," Lucivar snarled.  
  
Mild cursing and shouting sounded from the hallway.  
  
A red-jewelled demon dead warlord burst into the room and shouted, "High Lord! This cannot wait!"  
  
He stumbled a step once he noticed Lucivar and Daemon. His eye's were fixed on Lucivar's ebon-grey jewel and then moved to examine the face. Recognition flashed across his features and he muttered, "Mother Night. It would have to be you."  
  
10 / Heaven  
  
"It is time," Baruch whispered.  
  
His minions kept to the shadows, a race he had created that were similar to demon-dead but no longer housed the body's soul. They remained loyal to the one who had turned them, namely him.  
  
Baruch's ebony jewel flashed as he gathered his power and lit the candle's to open the gates to the Realm of Terreille. 


	5. Chapter Five

Please note that all characters, places and information in this story from the Black Jewels Trilogy completely belong to Anne Bishop. Even those created by me belong to the author for they involve her races and worlds. No profit is being made from the creation of this tale and it is purely for entertainment.  
  
  
  
11 / Kaeleer  
  
Lucivar's emotions finally reached a breaking point and Daemon had to throw a shield around the demon-dead warlord. Geoffrey appeared from around the corner, looking apologetic.  
  
"I thought I told you to wait," Saetan snarled, voice low and crooning. He took a step towards the warlord who shifted uneasily.  
  
"I don't care," the warlord said, finding his voice. "I'll send myself to the darkness if that is what it takes to keep the Realm safe."  
  
Jaenelle eyed the warlord with interest. "Your name?"  
  
"Connar Valin."  
  
Lucivar seemed to recognize the name and relaxed, a little.  
  
Saetan narrowed his eyes at Connar. "I've never seen you in Hell."  
  
"Never been, High Lord."  
  
"The concerns of the living realms do not involve the dead."  
  
Connar's eyes turned pleading. "My grand-daughter has gone mad. She made the offering recently and found herself without the drug lithen that has kept her complacent for centuries."  
  
Lucivar snorted. "I see Terreille has changed since the purge."  
  
Daemon turned to stare at his brother, who now looked drained and beaten. Lucivar shrugged his shoulders and walked towards the windows.  
  
"Lithen?" Geoffrey sounded shocked. "Are they mad?"  
  
"My son hasn't exactly been a model citizen," Connar snapped.  
  
Saetan noticed the pain and betrayal in the man's voice. "We will deal with this later, Connar. There are more pressing concerns for our family right now. Leave us."  
  
Connar glared at the men and turned to leave. Before closing the door behind him, he gave a feral smile and said, "Did I mention she's a black jewelled Queen?"  
  
12 / Kaeleer  
  
Marian stared at the floor. "You're going to find her?"  
  
Lucivar tensed, hearing her speak for the first time since he told her about Evarian. He turned to stare at his wife. Her long hair had fallen to cover most of her face. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap. But it was the set frame of her jaw that made his knees weak.  
  
"May I come with you?" she asked.  
  
"I don't think-"  
  
Marian climbed to her feet and took the two steps that placed her directly in front of Lucivar. "You're right! You don't think!" she yelled at him, eyes filled with tears. "Shelter me, lie to me all you want simply to keep your past from me. I'm sick of it!"  
  
"I didn't know," he snarled, teeth clenched to keep back the rage.  
  
"This has nothing to do with her. She is your child. When we married, I accepted you and everything that came with you, good or bad." Marian took a deep breath before continuing. "When we were taken to Terreille, I met that bitch who chained you and Daemon; that vile cunt that destroyed your life. I then realized why you kept so much from me. But please, don't shut me out anymore."  
  
Lucivar stared down at his mate, his wife and wrapped her face in his hands.  
  
Marian wrapped her arms around his neck, tightly. He could feel her tears trickle down his skin.  
  
"Bring her home to us," she whispered, kissed him softly on the mouth and left the room.  
  
Once hearing the door close, Lucivar turned and slammed his fist into the wall.  
  
********  
  
Connar stood in a place he never thought to be, directly between the Sadist and the High Lord of Hell. Saetan noted the man's unease with a mild smile.  
  
"Do you know where she might go?" Daemon asked.  
  
"We might as well go to Askavi and see my son," Connar said tightly. "There are a few choice words I'd like to say to him."  
  
"May I ask you something?" Saetan said softly.  
  
"Yes," Connar replied.  
  
"What is she like?" he asked.  
  
"Before the lithen, even at age three she was a force to be reckoned with. After, there were still flashes of her self that managed to be brought forth in times of strain and anger," Connar said with a smile.  
  
Just then Lucivar walked around the corner and stopped abruptly, staring at them. His assembled group of Eyrien's stopped behind him. Connar nodded to Hallevar and then turned his attention back to Lucivar.  
  
"Considering everything, the only thing she inherited from her mother was that incredible voice. Otherwise, she is the female image of her father."  
  
Lucivar approached them impatiently, and snarled, "Let's go."  
  
  
  
13 / Terreille  
  
Evarian walked incessantly through the forests, following a strange summoning into an uninhabited area in the mountains of Askavi. Until she could reclaim a hold on her emotions, it was better to remain far from anyone. Perhaps it was better to soothe her rage on the Jhinka. Although, it had been a wonderful feeling to splatter Linar all over the floor.  
  
"Damn it!" she cried, scratching her arm on a bush.  
  
The strange summons forced her to her feet.  
  
Evarian's head jerked up as she felt the presence of a dark jewel, one darker than her own. Impossible, she thought. At least she was no longer being controlled.  
  
The man's body slowly took shape. He was tall with black hair, gold eyes and tanned skin. He knelt down in front of her and studied her. He raised a hand and lightly brushed a finger down her cheek. She slapped it away, and took a step back.  
  
He laughed at her, genuinely amused. "You are the first of my line that I've found, but strangely the blood that flows in your veins is stronger than I'd believed possible after all these years." His voice was low and hypnotic. He lowered his hands and placed them on either side of her head. She flinched when he pushed through her barriers without problem. He was inside mind and searching for the link to her body. She panicked and tried to fight back but couldn't even call in sword; couldn't move to stop him should he choose to destroy her completely.  
  
Finally, he released her and she stared at him, completely dazed.  
  
"I have something to offer you, my child." His voice was pulling her in again. "Join my family and become mine. And in the end, you will have power beyond your imaginings."  
  
She blinked once, trying to block out his voice but he had disappeared. His psychic scent still lingered in the air.  
  
"What the hell have I gotten myself into," she muttered.  
  
She stood and shook herself, smiling absently when she noticed the scratch on her arm had healed. Needing peace, she spread her wings and vaulted into the sky.  
  
********  
  
Knowing Evarian would soon need to contact Colthvar, she hesitantly stepped into an inn and settled herself down at a table. She'd do it after dinner. The innkeeper eyed her apprehensively, obviously recognizing her from somewhere, either from the pit fights or from her travels with Jolandar.  
  
He handed her a menu and pointed to the back of the inn. "Someone would like to speak with you."  
  
Evarian turned and saw a dhemlan woman with tangled black hair.  
  
"Evarian?" the woman's voice was strangely rusty but unthreatening.  
  
She nodded, and studied the woman who approached her. No threat, she thought.  
  
A thin hand tentatively touched her shoulder. "May I speak with you?"  
  
She stared at the hand. "Why?" she asked, eyebrow raised.  
  
"It relates to your mother and father."  
  
Evarian narrowed her eyes. "You knew my mother?"  
  
"And about the man you met in the forests of Askavi."  
  
Evarian's stifled a shiver. The man who could invade her mind as easily as she could snap this woman's neck. A fear similar to that she had first felt for Jolander seeped into her being and she nodded.  
  
The woman sat down and said, "My name is Tersa." 


	6. Chapter Six

Please note that all characters, places and information in this story from the Black Jewels Trilogy completely belong to Anne Bishop. Even those created by me belong to the author for they involve her races and worlds. No profit is being made from the creation of this tale and it is purely for entertainment.  
  
*This part is dedicated to Starlight who seems to enjoy reading about how I make Lucivar's life a living hell. Just wait to see what I have in store for him. *Snicker* All in all, I'm writing this because I want revenge for him being such a dick towards Daemon in regards to Jaenelle. I mean, how dumb can you be to think that he would actually rape her? Don't worry. Lucivar is still one of my favourite characters, just one of the stupider ones….*  
  
  
  
14 / Terreille  
  
"Father, she just left!" Colthvar shouted. "What the hell was I supposed to do?"  
  
"At least you could have tried to stop her." Jolandar paced furiously in front of his two remaining offspring. "I'll have her head for this. Linar was-"  
  
"Linar put himself in that situation when he tried to force the issue of her choosing a mate," Colthvar said coldly. "And I'm sure you would have had no problems stopping an obviously pissed off Black jewelled Queen!"  
  
"Do I have to remind you that she is not your sister," Jolandar snarled. "That bitch killed my son!"  
  
"Ummm, father," Roldar said, sounding weak and pointing at the door.  
  
"Not now, boy," Jolandar said, waving his hand at his youngest son. He stopped pacing when he noticed how pale Colthvar had gotten. He slowly turned and stared at the large Eyrien standing in the doorway. He glanced down at the Ebon-grey jewel and back up at the face that seemed carved in stone.  
  
Then another familiar face pushed past Yaslana. "Hello, Jolandar," Connar said pleasantly. "Bet you didn't expect to see me again."  
  
Colthvar stared at his grandfather, stunned. A small smile spread across his face.  
  
Lucivar Yaslana's eyes examined the room. He was looking for something. Jolandar could easily guess what the eyrien was looking for.  
  
"Where is Evarian?" he snarled at Jolandar.  
  
Jolandar couldn't answer. He simply kept staring at his adversary, at the man who most likely was about to rip his throat out. Lucivar smiled. It was lazy and arrogant.  
  
"Grandpa?" Colthvar said quietly. He had taken a step towards the man he believed long dead. Connar shook his head slightly, glancing at Lucivar and back at him. Colthvar nodded and said, "We don't know. She hasn't returned since she made the offering."  
  
"But, the lithen-" Connar began, sounding worried.  
  
Colthvar shifted uncomfortably. "She hasn't been on it since she was ten."  
  
Jolandar turned to glare at his eldest son. "What?"  
  
Colthvar braced himself in a fighting stance. "Do you think I'd let that vile shit go down the throat of the only person who treated me as her family? I stopped it. She found her own way to relieve the anger. How dare you-"  
  
Evarian's voice flooded his mind. *Colthvar? We need to talk now.*  
  
*Where the hell are you?* he demanded.  
  
*I'm almost home. I'm bringing along a friend.* she replied.  
  
Colthvar turned to look at the two new men who had joined Lucivar. Both wore the black and were watching him with great interest. The younger of the two had placed a hand on Yaslana's shoulder to keep him from approaching Jolandar.  
  
Colthvar whimpered once he recognized the Sadist. Mother Night.  
  
*Cole, what's wrong?*  
  
*Nothing. Nothing.*  
  
*Who else is with you right now?* Her voice sounded suspicious. *Doesn't matter. I have something to discuss with father. I suggest you leave the room. Take Roldar with you.*  
  
She landed at the web and started walking towards the mansion.  
  
*I mean it Colthvar.*  
  
*I don't think that that is possible, little sister.*  
  
The front door opened and closed with a slam. Silence filled the room. Loud, impatient footsteps sounded from the downstairs hallway and up the stairs. She shoved her way through the three men standing next to the door and stepped into the room. A dhemlan woman stopped next to the Sadist and whispered something in his ear.  
  
Evarian spun around and glared at them. "What the hell are you looking at?" 


	7. Chapter Seven

Please note that all characters, places and information in this story from the Black Jewels Trilogy completely belong to Anne Bishop. Even those created by me belong to the author for they involve her races and worlds. No profit is being made from the creation of this tale and it is purely for entertainment.  
  
*Finally, things are coming together, or rather large tempers. I warn anyone from here on in that there will be snarly comments, insults, and of course, the joys of father / daughter bonding. I hope that everyone will enjoy what I have planned for our arrogant and rather grumpy Evarian who will eventually (next chapter) join Surreal in learning how to deal with a large number of over dominating bully-type warlord princes. And lets not forget pesky younger brothers.*  
  
*Rachel Hunt: Since you have threatened with the Rubber Chicken of Death, I hereby solemnly swear that there will be no more rewrites.*  
  
*Goddessnmb!: Me? Evil? Ye . . . . I mean, no! I guess with the whole Lucivar / Daemon thing, I just figured that after knowing someone for 1700 years, you'd be able to figure out someone's personality. Don't get me wrong; I think Lucivar is hilarious and great fun, but simply a bit of a dope. Summary, placed up just for you!*  
  
*ElVeNdEsTiNy: I know! I have always loved the characters! Aren't they simply fabulous! Such temper, snarliness and amusement all packaged within several interesting individuals!*  
  
*Kiana Darkk: More is here! Sigh. Sorry for taking so long. It is so hard to find the time to write for general amusement. Hope you enjoy the next chapter!*  
  
*Amber: You feel sorry for Lucivar? You just wait! Bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha! But don't worry; MOST of it is good torture. ;)*  
  
  
  
16 / Terreille  
  
Evarian shifted uncomfortably when the large man standing in the doorway just stared at her. He had paled a shade or two since her arrival and she darted a quick glance at Colthvar who also looked ready to keel over. What in the name of Hell was going on?  
  
"Did I miss something?" she asked, mildly annoyed at having everyone staring at her. Her eyes widened when she recognized her grandfather Connar standing silently, watching her. Then her attention shifted to Jolandar. Her discomfort vanished and she smiled sharply. "Everyone out," she purred. "Except him."  
  
"No," Connar called out. Stepping forward to stop her stealthy approach. "It is not your debt to call in. It's mine."  
  
She spun around to face him and snarled, "What could he possibly owe you? You were killed in-"  
  
"No, I wasn't." His cold, glazed eyes rose to stare at his son. "I was slaughtered by my own son."  
  
Evarian stared at Connar for a moment, and then closed her eyes, yielding to the greater debt.  
  
"So be it," she said. She opened her eyes and stared at Jolandar, surprised to feel tears gather and almost spill over onto her cheeks.  
  
Even though he had lied to her for centuries, tried to control her live with emotional tools and drugs best left forgotten, she couldn't help but feel somewhat upset. She clenched her jaw and swallowed her emotions. He had been the only father she had known, and despite her anger towards him, she remembered how much he had helped shape the woman she had become.  
  
"Before you return to the Darkness, know that Askavi will survive," she said quietly.  
  
Jolandar nodded once and braced his feet.  
  
Evarian walked past her grandfather and touched his shoulder, placing a shield around him should Jolandar try to speed his journey to the darkness. Before Connar died again, she wanted to talk to him. Colthvar grabbed Roldar and pulled him out into the hallway, carefully avoiding the edgy warlord princes. Evarian followed her two brothers to the outside courtyard.  
  
Tersa tried to grab her arm but she avoided contact with the woman. There was an odd, muddled feeling she could sense between herself and the unknown men who had arrived at Askavi. She just didn't feel ready to know who they were and where they came from.  
  
They stopped walking when they reached a small bench. Evarian sunk into it, feeling emotionally spent. Roldar stared up to the window that held his father; the pain of Jolandar's betrayal and imminent death was too much for him. His eyes trailed down to stare at a singular stone on the ground and he sat in the dirt.  
  
A flash of jewelled power shattered the windows, the sounds of shuffling footsteps and shouts, and finally a cry of pain. Jolanar Valin was defiant to the last. She felt the surge of a dark jewel as someone finished the kill. It was a combined effort. Obviously Jolandar owed more than one for his betrayal and lies.  
  
Colthvar passed impatiently in front of her. His movements were starting to annoy her. Something was obviously bothering her eldest brother.  
  
"Would you stop that?" she snapped. "Just tell me what is bothering you?  
  
"What was so important that we needed to discuss?" he asked, stopping his movement and sitting down next to her.  
  
She shook her head, not yet willing to tell him that she wasn't his sister.  
  
"You know about your true blood line?" he asked cautiously.  
  
She glared at him, feeling her anger surge forth. Was there no end to this lie? "Not all the specifics. All I know is that I thought Jolandar was the only lying prick. I was obviously mistaken. How could you keep something like that from me?"  
  
"I did feel some duty to my father, Evarian. You can understand that. I saw it in your eyes when Connar was going to kill him."  
  
Evarian paused and took a breath. "I suppose. D-do you know who my parents were?"  
  
It was hard to ask him; more because she knew that this was her true family. One was sitting next to her, and the other was in the dirt. But the need to know was simply too much.  
  
"Have you ever heard of Lucivar Yaslana?" Colthvar asked, looking uncomfortable.  
  
"You must be joking." Her voice was flat, but it held a slight tremor. "He was a maniac! Well, according to Prythian he was. I guess it doesn't really matter because he died ten years ago. I suppose that it is for the best. I've heard you talk about mom, so I can imagine how I was conceived. What an awful thought."  
  
Colthvar's smile was pained and his eyes held sympathy. "Actually, he is very much alive."  
  
Evarian paled and then said, "Well its not like I'll ever meet him. He hasn't been seen in Terreille for over decade."  
  
Colthvar whimpered and Roldar turned to stare at her. His eyes met his brother's and they both began to laugh hysterically.  
  
"This isn't funny," she hissed.  
  
"No, it isn't," a low voice said. It was the rather large eyrien from the upper floor and he was standing only a few feet to her left.  
  
Evarian started at his boots and worked her way up. Tight pants, leather vest, broad muscular shoulders, rather long hair for an eyrien warrior and then the face. Oh, why hadn't she noticed that sooner? The chiselled and angular features, strong gaze and who could forget that . . .  
  
Her head started to spin. It was partly from lack of sleep, food and the emotional upheaval. But something else was in the mix, a dark presence she had felt once before. She grabbed her head in her hands, feeling her sharp nails dig into her skin and draw blood. He moved past her inner barriers with a predatory ease that scared her. He was calling her again, demanding that she speak with him.  
  
Just before she lost consciousness, she muttered, "Why me?"  
  
********  
  
Lucivar watched her crumble. He reacted faster than the young warlord and grabbed her before she ended up in a heap on the ground. Small droplets of blood fell from the small cuts on her scalp that she had made with her nails. He picked her up and for a moment, just held on tightly, cradling her in his arms. Finally, he shifted and moved towards his brother.  
  
He felt a hand on his arm. Lucivar brushed it off easily and turned to stare down at the frightened yet determined Warlord that called Evarian his sister.  
  
"Where are you taking her?" Colthvar demanded.  
  
"It's not you concern," Lucivar snarled. Roldar placed himself in his path and pulled out his blade.  
  
Lucivar's men quickly disarmed the young eyrien warlord and held him back. Colthvar was not so easily taken out. He fought with great strength and skill, something only the greatest warriors achieved. Lucivar almost felt sorry to kill him. Almost.  
  
Daemon stepped into the mix, easily using his black strength to subdue and save Colthvar from possible attack. "Before we fight amongst ourselves," he snarled, "there is something you both need to know. A power, far deeper than the black has found a way into the realms and is interested in Evarian. She needs our protection Warlord, more than yours."  
  
"I will not leave her," Colthvar said, reaching to take his brother from the guard that held him.  
  
"No one said you'd have to Warlord," Saetan said, soothingly. "I'm sure our young Queen will need her things. Pack anything you think necessary and come to Kaeleer with us."  
  
"She is not going to be pleased with this," Roldar said quietly, staring warily at Evarian who still was out cold.  
  
"No, she is not," Colthvar said, an edge to his smile. He met Lucivar's eyes. "But I'm not going to be the one she's pissed at."  
  
  
  
17 / Heaven  
  
Dragon shifted in his sleep, ignoring the pull he felt from the outside world. The dreams kept coming, leaving him restless in his well-deserved void, a place free from outside influence and pain.  
  
And yet he felt a calling, a summons to rejoin the world of the Blood. It was a place where he had fought to subdue the Dark Lord and locked him away in the Realm of Heaven.  
  
The summons was getting stronger and he finally recognized it. It was coming from Lorn, his long-ago Brother. And yet, that wasn't the only pull. Someone else was in need of him.  
  
Dragon opened his eyes and clawed his way out of the grave. He felt a craving to see the night sky. 


End file.
